


The Dawn (of Our Time)

by RobinWritesChirps



Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: Canon Universe, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, F/F, Fluff, Post-Canon, cave wives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 16:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21148745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: A sweet morning in bed featuring lazy Zazzalil and top notch wife Jemilla. Domestic fluff.





	The Dawn (of Our Time)

**Author's Note:**

> I was hesitating whether I should post this on its own or just start a drabble collection to shove them all in but I cannot guarantee if I'll write enough Firebringer drabbles for a collection to justify itself and I think that 1.2K words justifies its own fic so this is it y'all. Hope you enjoy.

The greatest privilege Zazzalil possessed since she had married Jemilla, besides ruling the tribe at her side, besides being valued and listened to and even admired by some, beside living in the most comfortable hut of the village with the most beautiful wife, besides eating a warm meal every night and never going to bed afraid anymore, besides having a new cool ass headdress matching Jemilla's that signified her new status, was of course the privilege of sleeping in every once in a while.

Jemilla woke before her that morning as she did every morning. Zazzalil stirred, stretched herself, grunted in displeasure at the night being over so soon. Hadn't it been minutes since she had laid her head right here on this fur pillow next to Jemilla's? She felt a kiss on her shoulder, the cold air hitting the side of her body as Jemilla left the bed immediately followed by the fur being tucked right into place. Soon the soothing sound of fire being revived as Jemilla woke the embers that had near died during the night. Then Zazzalil fell back to sleep.

Jemilla was still in the hut when she woke again. They had a tiny fire just for themselves in a dirt hole in the ground in the middle of their hut and she was cooking strips of smilodon meat above it, a new technique developed by Emberly. The tribe had been having so many more ideas blossoming from each member since they had stopped being terrified for their lives every day and especially every night. The whole hut was filled with the rich smell of greasy meat cooking and Zazzalil exhaled in satisfaction.

"Babe?"

Jemilla hummed softly in reply, focused on her task − fire was dangerous and she always handled it with the utmost caution and fascination.

"Yeah, babe?" She replied and Zazzalil felt so very warm.

"Morning," she sighed simply.

Slowly, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. The fire was crackling, Jemilla was humming, but louder than both by far, Zazzalil heard the sound of rain, an incessant battering against their small thatched roof. They were all good sounds when you were in your bed, very warmed by the fire and by your wife's sweet words. Still, she looked up at the roof and hoped for the best. She had not missed the cold wet stinky nights in the cave. Not one bit.

"Good morning," Jemilla replied, chipper. "There's a huge fucking storm out there, by the way."

"Yeah," Zazzalil replied, lying back on the bed, arms crossed leisurely under her head. "I can tell."

Jemilla stood. Packing the cooked strips into large leaves, she joined Zazzalil on the bed, sitting next to her.

"I made sure everyone was safe and sheltered," she said. "It's too dangerous to stay outside."

She unwrapped the leaves between the two of them so that they served as plates. There were berries as well, and nuts. Keeri had gotten back her title of Senior Tribe Nut Collector, with much more success than before now that she mostly knew what nuts looked like. Zazzalil picked the few small rocks scattered here and there among the mix and dropped them to the floor before stuffing her face with the rest.

"Uh huh," she replied.

How many strips of meat could one shove into their mouth at one time without swallowing? She wondered.

"The wood is dry and protected," Jemilla went on. She pecked at the food much more parsimoniously, though Zazzalil always remembered to leave her share of any meal intact. Often, Zazzalil was just not so much more voracious than simply faster, rushing through her meals. Jemilla took her time. She always took her time. "The roofs are not leaking, I checked them all. The floors and corners were caulked the other day. Everyone has a working fire and nobody is alone so hopefully no one panics. Molag is in one of her moods and went on a walk earlier, but I convinced her to stay inside when the rain really started to pour."

Jemilla always had a bit of smugness to her whenever she rambled on all the duties she filled. Zazzalil had used to be beyond annoyed by it, as if Jemilla had done that to remind everyone of how superior she was and how none of them would ever reach her level. She saw now how misguided that view had been. Jemilla wasn't pretentious. She was proud of herself, of course, but that pride never came with deprecation for the ones around her. On the contrary, it was entirely interwoven with the love she had for her people. She served them not because she thought them incapable of doing anything for themselves, she bossed them around not because she thought they couldn't plan anything on their own, but because she had a vision for them, a hope in her heart guiding all of them to a better way of living.

Zazzalil had had a vision of her own as well for just as long. She had always imagined that, because it was different, her vision must have clashed with Jemilla's and for a while she had forgotten to pause and look at it clearly. She knew now that their visions, far from being opposites, were two pieces of the same puzzle and fit well into one another. A lazy morning in bed for everyone in the tribe. Sturdy huts and a dozen of precautions to protect from a bad storm. All of it captured in one moment.

"Babe, are you done eating? You left like half of your share, are you okay?"

Zazzalil blinked a few times and swallowed the mouthful of nuts she had been munching on, staring at her great, beautiful and efficient wife.

"Yeah," she replied in a huff, "Yeah, I'd say I'm okay."

Jemilla smiled. There was that thing about her smile that made her whole face brighten up, like a spark that lit up a fire. Zazzalil loved her and still realized every day how much she loved her. They finished breakfast in silence and Jemilla cleaned up for them, putting to the fire the leaves and rests and for a few seconds the air was thick with new richer smells before the flames swallowed them up. Jemilla checked on the sky outside one more time and Zazzalil heard the sound of thunder in the distance, the sudden deafening outpour as the door of their hut opened and then the dull remnant of it as the door closed back snugly.

"In other news," Jemilla announced, "Water's wet."

Zazzalil snorted. She still hadn't left the bed. She looked up at Jemilla making her way towards her, the glinting dark eyes of hers. The storm was raging outside, all sorts of terrible groaning thunder and flashing lightnings, but nothing that could hurt her, not when Jemilla held her in her arms and kissed her so very sweetly in here. She didn't think she would leave the bed now, maybe not even today.

Being Jemilla's wife had many, many privileges. A lazy morning in bed was but one of them.


End file.
